


Indulgence

by cuddlesome



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Belly Kink, Dubcon Cuddling, Eating, F/M, Groping, Mild Blood, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Weight Gain, Weird Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 12:25:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13927122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddlesome/pseuds/cuddlesome
Summary: Rey really shouldn't find a fattened up Supreme Leader Kylo Ren appealing. And yet.





	Indulgence

Kylo Ren’s body is thick with musculature and meat both when Rey sees his upper half bared to her. The physical display of his strength is impressive but Rey fixates on the fat—soft, buttery, velvety fat lining his abdomen and cushioning his pectorals. And she gets inconsolably jealous. And she wishes that she had the luxury. He doesn’t deserve it. No one deserves to be this well-fed during wartime.

 

Worser still, he gets bigger as supreme leader. Eventually there’s a lip of flesh creeping over the top of his belt and the fullness of a second chin pushing at his collar. The seams of his tunic creak and groan in tandem with the garment’s attempts to contain him.

 

Rey sees him gorging himself when the bond opens between them. The Force is projecting his feelings despite him trying to bury them by eating mountains of food—he’s lonelier and angrier than ever. Filling up his stomach until it aches is a distraction, at least for a time, and he’s convinced himself that his bulk makes him appear more powerful.

 

One day, many fitted outfits later, he’s overflowing from his throne. His fat rear barely fits in the seat and his love handles pour over the armrests.

 

Rey lets her jealousy crumble and give way to admiration. Her spoiled prince is a king now.

 

She edges closer. Kylo rips through his current feast of gizka steak—or maybe it’s just a glorified snack—barely sparing her a glance. Rey is a messy eater herself and really has very little right to judge, but his speed and sloppiness is something else. His hands and mouth are covered in blood. He’s like an animal. Like the monster she’s always accused him of being.

 

She can’t quite get herself to be disgusted. The gizka smells wonderful and she would probably devour it the same way were she in his position. Particularly if she had the magnificence of being so big.

 

Rey swallows a mouthful of saliva and stares at Kylo’s belly. His belt is like a corset at this point, with fat bulging over the top and bottom. Seized by impulse, she reaches out and strokes the overhang of his gut. It’s still pliant despite the large delicacy he’s forcing into his stomach that’s surely the chaser to other food.

 

Kylo finally looks up from his steak, sets it aside on a plate on his armrest, and gestures towards her with a bloodied hand. Rey doesn’t fight as much as she should as the Force propels her toward him. She lands with an oomph, seated in his wide lap and crushed against his wider torso. The hand that had touched his belly cups the swell of a breast for a long few seconds before Rey has the presence of mind to withdraw it. She starts to withdraw herself altogether until Kylo predictably steps in.

 

He curls an arm around her, making Rey realize just how juicy his biceps and forearms have gotten. Then, as if she has no chance of escaping his casual hold, Kylo picks the remaining steak up with his other hand and continues to eat. The sheer arrogance of the gesture makes Rey angry.

 

“You’ll be happy to know I don’t entertain fantasies of bringing you back to the light anymore,” she says, trying to ignore how good it feels to sink into his thighs.

 

Kylo swallows the last of the gizka steak. Rey is so close she can hear the passage of the masticated meat down his gullet.

 

“So you’ve finally given up.” Kylo licks his fingers in close proximity to her face.

 

“Who am I to take you away from being fed until you swell up like a happabore?” Rey asks. “Clearly you’re luxuriating in it.”

 

“Mm. Clearly.”

 

Kylo settles back into his throne. The motion causes Rey to fall forwards against his thick, cushioned torso. She balls one of her hands into a fist and punches him in the side, hoping the lurch will give him indigestion.

 

His eye twitches once and that’s all the reaction she gets. Rey opens her hand and drags it down his chest and to his belt. She doesn’t know why he bothers with it anymore, it only accentuates how fat he’s grown and probably hampers his guts. She presses the clasp at the center and Kylo’s belly surges forward. He groans low in his throat.

 

Rey has trouble finding the zipper to his tunic in his collar until he lifts his head up and his buccula is out of the way. Her hand still bumps up against the puffy fold of fat nonetheless. The tunic is even more restrictive than Rey initially thought. Kylo seems to grow before her very eyes once she opens it and his pants up and his belly and breasts are free to swell out more. Mountains of pale flesh marked red with where his clothes had cut into him and bright, jagged stretchmarks.

 

A plump hand lands on the inward curve of her waist and the other reaches up to stroke her cheek. He’s so cuddly, completely belying his usual hostility. She almost wishes he were hard and gristly so that she’d feel less inclined to snuggle up to him, her supposed enemy. The utter wrongness of the whole situation is difficult to remember when he's so soft.

 

Rey leans into him, sliding an arm beneath the underhang of his gut and feeling a slight slickness of sweat. She weighs Kylo’s belly in her arms, trying to guess how heavy he is based on that alone. One thing is for sure—his full body weight would crush her to a pulp at this point.

 

She recalls Plutt being sold livestock once in a while rather than scrap and the tool he used to measure how large around the animals were, the scale used to weigh them. Then he butchered them and their blood stained the sand outside of his junk stand. Kylo catches the thought through the Force and doesn’t even have the grace to look horrified.

 

“Are you planning to butcher me, Rey?”

 

"No," she blurts, realizing too late that it's one of his dry jokes.

 

Kylo smiles. His crooked eyeteeth catch the light and hold it, glinting. Rey glares before crushing her face to his chest to hide the angry blush creeping across her face. She hopes he enjoyed that, because it's the closest he'll ever get to an admission that she cares for him. 

 


End file.
